Bubblegum and Broomsticks
by Faded Warrior
Summary: Life with Quidditch, pranks and imminent detentions is second nature to James Potter. But when a seemingly insignificant turn of events happens in sixth year it seems that the one thing he wasn't aiming for this year, wanders straight into his open arms.
1. Chapter 1 The Plan

The morning was warm, the first signs of a good summer dawned across the grounds of Hogwarts. The many towers and turrets, bridges and balustrades, fine carved gargoyles and paned windows basked in the warmth of the sun, its warm rays tickling the mountain peaks, the rays of light dancing off of the shimmering surface of the lake. A couple of wagtails danced a merry flight across the waters surface, chirping happily, to be hastily chased by a territorial raven. It would have been a quiet day in fact if it hadn't been for the fact that it was a Saturday and every resident of Hogwarts was determined to indulge themselves in a smidgeon of sunshine, even those who had exams to be preparing for.

A motley crew of students sat beneath a beech tree near the water's edge, the regular hang out spot for the quartet, some of the most respected students in Hogwarts, though not necessarily for the right reasons. The tallest was named Sirius Black, lounging against the tree trunk his eyes closed in rest, his arms cushioning the back of his head. He had a handsome elegance about him, sharply defined features and dark hair that kept many of the girls entranced. He had a small smile upon his thin mouth, the origins only known to himself though one could safely hazard a guess at the formations of a childish prank. His best friend sat near him, he was slightly shorter than Sirius and a lot scrawnier with a slightly thin face and sharp nose. He had a mass of messy black hair that had never yet been fully tamed, his hand often wandering and messing it up even more. His name was James Potter and he was gazing longingly at a group of girls at the water's edge. The third was deeply immersed in a book, he had a slightly unhealthy pallor about him and scratches up his exposed arms which were self inflicted under the extremities of the full moon. His name was Remus Lupin, a werewolf, an extremely lucky one at that and he flicked agitatedly at his floppy hair that managed to get in his line of sight every time his arm moved to turn a page of his battered book. He had hazel eyes alike the colour of James', which weren't quite following the words of the book as though it were a chore he would rather not be doing. The fourth of their company was Peter Pettigrew, he was often overshadowed by Sirius and James, a little like Remus and was in constant awe of the three of them, it was only their support that had meant he could become an animagus. He was a lot smaller then them all, sandy hair sat on his head and alike James' never seemed to know where it wanted to go. His face was slightly rounder, but thinner since his first years now that the puppy fat had disappeared at last, he had blue, watery eyes and a slightly pointed nose, the distinguishing feature between him and his animagus form, the rat. He had a large bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans in his hands and was lazily flicking them into his mouth, a few of them missing and bouncing off into the grounds. To each other they were known as Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, to the rest of the school they were known as the Marauders.

It was the nearing the end of their sixth year at Hogwarts, in the next year they would be facing their NEWTS and hopes of future employment. At that moment they were simply relieved to be sitting back and relaxing after taking their apparition tests. The woman who had tested them had been seriously annoying; her simpering voice was almost unbearable. 

"Stupid woman," muttered James, turning away from the girls at the lake, his hand finally leaving bird's nest of a head alone. "Her bloody voice, how was I ever supposed to concentrate?" He looked indignant crossing his arms across his chest, his eyes wandered over the bag of Bertie Bott's Beans. "Pass us a bean Wormtail," he said lazily.

Peter obliged, throwing a blue coloured bean to James. "What flavour is blue?" he asked plucking a gruesome yellow coloured one and popping it in his mouth. The others laughed as he gagged and spat it onto the floor, a look of disgust upon his face.

"Looks can be deceiving," commented Sirius, plucking one from the bag and giving it a good sniff.  
"There is honey flavour yet it's green, it's not into distinguishing between the colours," he said popping it into his mouth and apparently relishing in the taste. "It's all in the smell," he lied with a smile before leaning back against the tree, flicking the hair out of his eyes.

Peter picked up a black coloured bean, his pointed nose twitching ever so slightly as he sniffed it with a worried look upon his face. "Smells like strawberry," he commented still looking quite suspicious. He glanced across at Sirius. "Are you sure it's in the smell, strawberries are red."

"Sure I'm sure," said Sirius loudly, his eyes still closed. "Anyone would think that you'd never heard of magic before Wormtail."

Peter popped the bean into his mouth slightly reluctantly even though he had happily popped any old one into his mouth before. He chewed on it slowly, his eyebrows raised warily in a comical expression which made him look as though he were searching his brain for a long forgotten memory. 

"It's bloody earwax again!" he suddenly cried, spitting the bean out, before watching it bounce down the hill and make a convincing plop when meeting the water.

"Your sense of smell can't be that good," commented Remus from behind his book, which was still stuck on the same page that had been open for the last thirty minutes. He reached out a hand for a handful of beans and shoved them in his mouth chewing heartily; at least four of them in one go. "Caramel, Chocolate, Sushi and Blood," he said, screwing his nose up slightly at the taste of the concoction. "Bearable one at a time but not something I would put in a cookery book." He returned to his 'reading' this time working on staring at the subtitle of page two.

"Lily was just staring at me." 

"What?" snorted Sirius opening one eye, "We're not even doing anything", he cast an appraising eye over James who looked ready to serenade one of them, his face alight with glee at the possible revelation.

"Lily Evans was staring at me," James stated again, his hand immediately ruffling up his hair until he looked as though he had come off worse in a brawl with a hurricane.

"She's probably scared of any more wedding propositions," commented Remus dryly. "I know that you've never gone that far before," he added when James sent him a death glare. "But you do go a bit over the top sometimes."

It was very true, James had been bothering Lily ever since first year, at the time it was just pranks and innocent jibes, but when he started asking her out in fourth year there it seemed that she could not bring herself to speak civilly to him for more than five minutes at a time.

"But it was more like a dreamy stare, more a gaze," he insisted looking at them all fervently. "You know, like um ... Agnes Mildred!" he cried.

When the others looked at him blankly he carried on all flustered, his hands whirring viciously as he tried to get his point across while keeping an eye on the girls by the lakeside.

"Oh you know, like when she was in the exam hall, staring at the back of Padfoot's head all starry eyed, I wonder how she ever managed to pass any exams sitting near you Padfoot." James grinned wryly at the fleeting look of despair that flitted across Sirius' face.

"I bet she'll slap you one if you ask her out though," he remarked, trying to act like he had never heard his best friend's comment of his current fervent admirer.

"Not this time Padfoot," James said with a touch of arrogance in his voice. "She has fallen for my roguish charm at last. All I need is the right circumstance and setting, she is putty in my hands."

"I really wouldn't bet on that," remarked Remus, putting his book down and closing it on page two. "How many times have you asked her out?"

"How am I supposed to remember the exact number of times?"

"Too many, that is how many. I honestly think that if she had fallen for you, she may have said yes long ago. Even if it was just to humour you," he said with a sigh. "Poor girl must be sick of the heartbroken look upon your face," he added as an afterthought, shoving his book unceremoniously into his bag.

"I am not heartbroken Moony, it is a mere momentary loss of confidence," replied James, trying to pull back some dignity from somewhere, dragging his eyes from the lake side, turning instead to a staring contest with a blade of grass. "No heartbreak for me."

"Yeah well, I'll tell you that next time she rejects you and you can't bear to show us your face all evening," muttered Remus turning his attentions to the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. "Keeping you awake are we Padfoot?" he commented, poking Sirius harshly in the stomach so he spluttered ever so slightly.

"Nah," mumbled Sirius sitting up slightly. "Just plotting."

"What?" asked James.

"A prank of course," replied Sirius stating the obvious.

There had never been a stretch of time longer than three weeks in which they hadn't played a prank, however minor. Their longest was two and a half weeks and that was at the time of their OWL weeks. When they weren't stressed about exams you could generally find them mischief making, despite their supposed increase in maturity levels in recent years. They had a few regular targets and sometimes it was as simple as throwing all manner of objects down the moving staircases and seeing who it could have hit. Some of them involved night time wanderings under James' invisibility cloak in which they could set up a trap, stink pellets under the Slytherin table and suchlike. Often enough they charmed one of the suits of armour to follow a victim around singing a rude song about them. In general they were mischief makers, specifically James and Sirius. They had been inseparable for years, closer to one another than brothers.

"Yes but what do you have in mind," prompted Remus. Peter watched them all, waiting for the finale, the unveiling of the prank. He had a bean halfway to his mouth in anticipation; it had been at least two weeks since they had pulled a prank on anybody.

"I was thinking of giving our good old friend Snivellus a call," commented Sirius, pulling out his wand and twirling it in between his fingers before continueing, "He's in the hospital wing you know, I kicked over his cauldron by 'accident' the other day in potions. It seems that nobody apart from your charming Lily has been to see him, "he carried on glancing at them momentarily to make sure they were listening properly. "Well I was thinking how wonderful it would be for him to find a box of chocolates when he wakes up one morning."

"Not one of your better ones Padfoot my friend," remarked James. "I was under the impression that we were to prank him, not send him chocolates. Stupid of me I know."

Sirius rolled his eyes despairingly. "Well funnily enough I managed to get myself an interesting potions book perfect for pranksters such as ourselves over the holidays, you may remember it Prongs." He reached into his book bag that, alike himself, was propped up against the tree trunk. "Peculiar Potions," his voice carried the title of the book to them all. "Brought it in Dervish and Banges, you know the new shop in Hogsmeade. Full of interesting potions that include some peculiar affects with no harm of poisoning."

"Don't you think that he'd smell something in them," interjected Peter, popping a bean into his mouth. "Strawberry!"

"Way ahead of you Wormtail, some of these babies are odourless, I know that dear Snivellus is fond of his potions, but he shouldn't manage to pick up on these," he remarked, flicking through the pages. "They're not something that you really pick up in a text book after all; they're more in the form of inventions. I'm pretty sure that he'll take the bait."

The others still looked a little dubious, each of them passing the book around and having a quick sift through, sneering their noses at some of the potions and chuckling at others. Sirius watched them all; arms crossed a smug grin across his face, obviously very happy with the plan. The fact that millions of things could go wrong surpassed his mind, or he simply brushed away. Making them quickly would be a problem, as would be slipping them to him unnoticed, not to mention being caught out along the way.

"One big problem," pointed out Remus, shaking a finger at Sirius with a wry grin. "Who actually gives Snivellus chocolates?"

"I told you Moony, this is a prank, not a nicety," retorted Sirius looking a little agitated.

Remus rolled his eyes and explained. "What I mean is ... nobody at Hogwarts would send him chocolates in the first place. It's not like he has any secret admirers and I've heard that even Lily doesn't talk to him as often as she used to after the last year. The Slytherin scumbags are barely people to care whether one of their number is having their leg dissolved in the hospital wing. What is our alibi? I mean there has to be a reason for him to be receiving chocolates at all, so we have something to hide behind. He would be suspicious unless he thinks that someone may have felt sorry for him."

Sirius was stumped at this remark, still flicking idly through the book that had managed to circulate back to him at last. "That could be a problem," he admitted bowing his head slightly in defeat.

As they all wracked their normally sharp brains for a suitable, believable alibi they were interrupted by a tall girl with waist length blonde hair, going by the name Eva Goshawk.

"Morning all," she said airily. "James, Sirius, old Terry's gone and organised a surprise Quidditch practice for tomorrow's game." 

It was only at the words that her Quidditch robes and broom were noticed, a bat hung from her wrist swinging against her leg. She was a Gryffindor beater, alongside Sirius. James was a Gryffindor Chaser.

"Not again," groaned James, rising to his feet with much groaning and grunting. "Come on Padfoot we need to go and get our robes." Sirius remained motionless, his eyes closed once more. The book lay open in his lap; it seemed that he was pretending to be asleep.

"No need," interjected Eva, throwing them their robes. "Your brooms are down at the pitch waiting for you." She looked at Sirius and grinned wryly. "Come on you great lummox, or I'll throw me bat at ye," she brandished her beater's bat before her, leaning down to jab Sirius in the stomach sharply.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," moaned Sirius getting to his feet and standing beside the two agitatedly, leaning on elbow on Eva's shoulder as she rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "I will come only if you, little sparrow hawk, will kindly stop poking me." He poked her in the arm as she shrugged his off of her shoulders, smacking him around the head playfully.

The three of them departed, heading towards the Quidditch pitch, Sirius and James leaving orders to Peter and Remus to find a suitable potion which they could brew when they returned in the boys' dormitory. So they obediently packed up their bags and Bertie Bott's, before heading into the castle. Slowly meandering their way up to the Gryffindor tower, where they could plot in the solitude of the dormitory.

A good couple of hours later James and Sirius marched into the boys' dormitory where Remus and Peter were already residing. Peter was making some last minute touches to his charms essay on elemental spells and Remus was still busy poring over the book that Sirius had produced. It seemed that they had not quite decided on which potion to use in the time that had been allocated. James and Sirius were extremely windswept their clothes were dishevelled and dirtied as they threw each of their brooms at their beds, luckily Sirius kept his beater's bat down at the Quidditch pitch.

"Eva said that she'd help," remarked Sirius as he pulled off his Quidditch robes, slipping into a set of plain ones.

"Do we really need her help in this?" asked Remus.

"You know as well as we do Remus that she's been a good help to us, even if she doesn't always agree to what we are doing," replied James as he too slipped into some plain robes to. "She doesn't agree with this one either, but she's willing to plant them there for us, and get any ingredients that we can't. She said that we're kicking old Snivellus when he's down, by our own hand originally."

"But she changed her mind when I told her some of the funnier things that the potions in mind can do," interjected Sirius, looking worried at there the conversation was headed. "That's why she'll help us. She says that it should cheer him up when sitting in the dull hospital wing. Anyway, she'll be here in a minute."

"For a girl so smart she really does take a lot of what you say to heart doesn't she?" remarked Remus with raised eyebrows. "Oh come on, it's not going to cheer Snape up! Nothing cheers him up, apart from the opportunity to hex each and every one of us with his own little inventions."

"You just don't like it that Eva has managed to outsmart you on several occasions Moony," simpered Sirius, wrenching the book from his grasp. "Lighten up, full moons isn't for four nights, you're not going to miss any of it. And may I remind you, if it wasn't for Eva's help we would never have managed the magic needed to join you every month." He wagged a sever finger at Remus who opened his mouth like a goldfish, before shutting it tightly and looking away. His eyes met a little sparrow on the windowsill. "She's here."

Peter swung off of his bed, kicking the parchment off of the duvet in doing so and wrenched open the little paned window. A sparrow with an abnormally long tail hopped into the room and before their eyes, transformed to her human form.

"Why do you do that when you could walk up here?" asked Peter, settling back to his charms essay, still keeping an ear out for the others.

"Because any time I ever used to come and visit you guys for a prank, there used to be nasty rumours afterwards if you could so kindly remember," she stated coolly, a look of pure hatred coming across her face. "I'd rather not have the whispers in the corridor and I am sure that neither would you Peter, Sirius," she nodded at each of them in turn. "Or indeed you Remus." The back of Remus' neck went bright red; he was never allowed to forget his tiny crush on Eva in second year.

"What about me?" asked James indignantly.

"They never needed an excuse to poke fun at you," laughed Eva back to her normal self. "What with your pride being kicked by Lily every time you said something stupid in public, there was no need for more reasons to laugh at you. Now forget the old rumours, what am I needed for besides being a delivery sparrow?"

"Not sure yet," said Sirius, striding over to her and handing her the book. "As good old Peter and Remus obviously have not come to a decision in which potion we could use. Care to choose one?" His voice was low and pleasant, as though trying to make her do something which he had no desire to do himself.

"No I don't care for that," she said pushing the book roughly into his chest. "I said I would help, not do the whole prank myself. If I choose, get the ingredients and probably wind up making it and delivering them, you could quite easily stand away and point the finger at me."

"Would we ever do that little sparrow hawk?" coaxed Sirius.

"It'd be in your best interests not to Mr. Black," she replied coolly before lying down on his bed. "Now can someone wake me up when you've made your mind? I do actually have a lot of homework to be getting on with." They all knew that she was lying; they hadn't received that much homework at all recently as it was the time of the NEWTS and their Professors were busy with the hyper and distressed seventh years.

Sirius sniffed indignantly and sat on the floor, knowing full well that Eva would kick him off his own bed if he sat on her. "I say that we do the bubblegum sneeze affect one," he remarked, opening it up to the page. It had a rather extraordinary illustration of a man with a pink bubble out of each nostril upon it which Sirius seemed to find rather amusing. He dumped the book before Eva expectantly.

"D'you reckon we could brew that one?" he asked, hands on hips, daring her to say otherwise.

"You need to ask Lily that," muttered Eva, chucking the book back. "You know how much old Slughorn hates me for my inability with the cauldron."

She was speaking the truth. Her ability had never really lay in the realms of potions, she was more inclined towards charms and transfiguration, hence helping them become animagi, between her and James they just about managed it without any harmful side effects. Professor Slughorn always managed to pick up upon her lacking potions skills, he was determined not to take her onto NEWT level before being overpowered by Professor McGonagall, who had fallen prey to a heated debate with Eva herself. She had powered on through sixth year, every spare moment of her time put to improving her grades high enough to allow her to do whatever she wanted when she left Hogwarts. It was never the sheer number of NEWTs that the students achieved, more the specific subjects.

"We'll manage," said Remus, standing up and retrieving the book, which was originally in his grasp. "As long as we can get the ingredients." He cast a significant eye over Peter and Eva.

It was generally down to Peter to go down to the dungeon store cupboards in rat form and manage to whisk them away. If anything every needed to be gathered from the grounds, Eva would take the form of a sparrow and fetch it from the grounds. It had only been in the past couple of years that she helped them so regularly; she wasn't one of the famous marauders. But in having worked with them for a good few years to get around the werewolf problem upon which she had stumbled across by chance, they had come to some form of allegiance. She helped them when they needed it, and she got their respect and friendship in return. She was rarely ever pranked and often foresaw it coming, used to their schemes and the way that their minds often worked. She leant over and managed to grab hold of the book, her sharp eyes scanning the list of ingredients.

"These will take many trips," she commented at the vast amounts of substances. "I would suggest that you guys find somewhere to hang around downstairs where you won't be suspected of anything, or you could simply go and raid the kitchens. Then poor old Peter won't have to lug them all of the way up here. Meanwhile if you leave that window open," she said, nodding her head towards the window she had entered. "I will go and scour the grounds for what you need, I may have to go and raid the greenhouses. Your last ingredient will be a little tricky to get, so when you guys get back start without me and I'll get it to you as soon as possible."

"We'll go and camp out in the kitchens," butted in Remus. "That way we can get the ingredients off of wormtail and some chocolates from the house elves. If we do it at dinner time then they will be too busy to notice us being there longer than usual."

"You mean we're going to miss dinner!" exclaimed Sirius looking heartbroken, "But I'm starving!"

"We're going to the kitchens you twit," laughed James, smacking the back of Sirius' head. "I hear it is one of the few places on earth that manages to supply a meagre amount of the holy stuff." He smirked at Sirius before stepping over the book now on the floor to his trunk. "I'll be taking the invisibility cloak, just in case. I would give it to you Eva, for the greenhouse, but I doubt even a strong little sparrow hawk would manage to fly with a cloak."

She nodded with a small smile, before getting off of Sirius' bed and striding over to the window, obviously keen to get her work done and dusted so she could get on with her work, and presumably get her hands on some food. She stood at the open window, her features distorting and morphing as she underwent her transformation, the four boys looking on. As she took flight from the window they too, left the room, safe in the knowledge that she would not be discovered in her actions, for they were the only occupants of the dormitory.


	2. Chapter 2 The Match

The morning of the Quidditch Cup Final dawned bright and sweltering hot. The heat lay over the castle like a smothering blanket, purging them all into constant sweaty discomfort. Clothes stuck to bodies, fringes were plastered to faces and tempers were short in the early summer heat, particularly at the Slytherin and Gryffindor house tables. The Gryffindor team largely consisted of the higher years. James, Sirius and Eva were from the sixth year and Terry Higgins from the seventh year. The two other chasers were Sophie Clark and Terence Gribben from the fourth year, their youngest player was Mark Trench, their second year keeper. Whereas the Slytherin team was more of a mixture of the years, a team consisting entirely of the male gender, which Eva found enormously hilarious.

"Where is the equality in that house?" she remarked at breakfast that morning. "Not only are they stuck in the middle ages with their views on blood, but they're also backwards in the roles of women!" She had her toast before her and was munching heartily as usual, either not nervous or not showing it as the others did, particularly Terry. "I mean sure enough, they have size over me and Sophie, but then we can turn sharper than them. They need it more balanced, I have seen some of their smaller, more female players fly well, they really should give them a chance."

"No they shouldn't!" cried Sirius, swiping some toast off of her plate quickly, followed by a harsh smack. "If they let some of the girls on the team, they might actually beat us. Although when you say 'more' female you could be addressing some of the guys too."

Eva glowed with a certain pride at that remark, and hit his wrists hard when they snaked back out to grab some more toast. Sirius was only eating to annoy her, James wasn't even making the effort. His eyes rested further along the table, where he had spotted the glance of some green eyes. Earlier in the year he had not bothered Lily so much. It was never so much of a past time before but he had been told to lay off on the occasion, so he did. But it seemed ever since he stopped asking her out so frequently, he noticed more glance in his direction. Not that he couldn't resist asking her out every now and then, the extra attention was already going to his bloated head. 

"... I mean you don't catch me staring at chairs like that," interrupted Sirius' voice, penetrating James' thoughts. 

"Wha?"

"James you're staring at a chair," commented Eva as though it was something she did all of the time. "Sirius was wondering why."

James turned around properly in his seat and stared at the grain of the table instead. "I was just thinking about the match that's all," he lied; his mind couldn't be further away from the match until he got there. 

Sirius gave a snort of disbelief and swiped another piece of toast. Eva smacked him again but looked at James in wonderment.

"I thought it was only me who tried to tell the future through wood grain. I don't think that the house table, crafted a thousand years ago will tell the fortune of today's match. Though you never do know." James shook his head in disbelief at her, finally managing to tear his mind away from those green eyes staring at him.

He thought that perhaps this could have been it; perhaps it wasn't a schoolboy crush any more? Never mind, he had a match to win and next to girls Quidditch was the most important thing in the wizarding world. You could ask any male Hogwarts resident.

He was just leaving the hall, as though in a dream when he heard an almighty yelling from the Gryffindor table...

"GOSHAWK! BLACK! You should be at the Quidditch pitch! Do you want Gryffindor to win the cup or not?!" She looked quite insane, gesticulating wildly before lowering her voice slightly to a level that only Eva and Sirius could hear. They laughed and ran to join James at the large oak front doors.

"What did she say to you guys?" he asked, watching the grin of determination spread across Eva's face.

"She said that Slughorns been driving her mad all week," replied Sirius, steering the over two out of the front door and setting the brisk pace down to the Quidditch pitch. "She also said that if we don't win we can be expecting extra transfiguration homework."

"That's on top of the threat from Slughorn," laughed Eva. "He said that if we do win, we'll get extra potions homework."

They all laughed amiably, at something which quite frankly wasn't that funny. The looks on the Head of Houses faces was certainly going to be a sight to see. There had been a running total of the wins of each house for over two hundred years of the sport at Hogwarts. Slytherin had remained at the top of it for many, many years, their lead pronounced in the last fifty, however it seemed that the tables were starting to turn in recent years. Last year it had been a Ravenclaw win, the year before that Gryffindor. It always seemed that the Gryffindor and Slytherin games were the most anticipated. Even the other houses enjoyed those matches more than the ones concerning themselves. It was like a throwback from the founders' days, the rift between Slytherin and Gryffindor pronounced in their competition. Back then it was sword play, in the modern day and age it was through Quidditch.

Half an hour later and the Quidditch pitch was a frenzy of cheering Quidditch fanatics and their Professors. The stands soared high into the sky so they could be level with the players to a certain extent. Some of the stands were raised even higher, the staff podium as it were. Even Professor Dumbledore had come out to watch the final; he was not often seen at the other matches. Even the Headmaster could not resist a good old fashioned Slytherin versus Gryffindor match. He gazed down serenely upon all of the students; sitting next to him was Professor McGonagall, dressed in her best tartan though even she had a Gryffindor scarf hugging her neck. A golden microphone was grasped carefully in her hands, beside her sat the student commentator, a burly looking fifth year Hufflepuff. He looked practically fit to jumping from the stands to run onto the pitch if the match didn't start soon.

Down in the changing rooms the tension was thick in the air. Terry in particular looked as though he was going to be sick, it was his last year at Hogwarts and his final chance to win the title, he hadn't been on the team when they last managed it. They were all standing in line at the door, waiting to be called out by the commentator one by one. Terry at the front, behind him: Terence, Sophie and James. Behind them stood Mark, behind him stood Eva and Sirius, each of them had a serious look upon their faces, already getting used to their bats, a mere extension to the arm. Each of the team had an equally grave look to their faces, some with a slightly more pronounced green tinge than the others, each excited, each nervous, each dying to claim a win for their house. No words were needed, no pep talk. All they needed was the blow of the whistle and the start of the commentary.

"Now please give a big cheer for the Gryffindors! Captain Higgins, seeker! Potter, Clark and Gribben, chasers! Trench, keeper! Black and Goshawk, beaters!"

As their names were called out, they mounted their brooms one by one, zooming from the changing rooms in a blur of scarlet and gold. The light of the sun blinding them as they did a lap of the pitch, eventually coming to hover around one half of the centre circle. The Quidditch Master, Professor Cruntchen was in the very centre, holding the quaffle under one arm, a silver whistle poking out from his mouth, battling against his droopy moustache. Down below them was the crate of balls, ready to be opened by one of his student assistants. The Gryffindor team waited patiently as the Slytherins did their lap of the pitch to the same amount of applause that they had received. As they too came to hover in a half circle the Gryffindors glared evilly at them, Terry swooping across to get the technicalities of handshakes over and done with quickly. The hard, grey eyes of the Slytherin Captain glaring into his determined stare, old enemies both on and off the pitch.

PEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPP! 

The whistle blew harshly all of a sudden, each and every player split off to their allocated tasks, working as one whole unit like a well oiled machine. Sophie, Terence and James swooped inwards towards the flying quaffle, heading fearlessly straight towards the larger Slytherins. Mark shot up towards the goal hoops, Terence immediately flew as high as he could peering below him for a gold glimmer. Sirius and Eva went about their old tricks, something they practiced well, each of them flying in a figure of eight that covered the whole pitch, going in opposing directions, only ever meeting briefly in random parts of the pitch, breaking off only when they needed to. A tremendous crash erupted from the centre of the pitch as James flew straight into one of the Slytherins in the first attempt to get the possession of the quaffle. The larger Slytherins managed to punch it away and get possession, but the Gryffindor chasers immediately took pursuit, weaving in and out of the other players. Their ears were closed to the cheering and gasps, tuned in for each others calls and the tell tale whistles of a bludger.

The first goal was scored by the Slytherins, a huge roar of delight came from the green and silver clad supporters. A scream of rage could be heard from Professor McGonagall as she became quite beside herself next to the commentator. It was a known fact that the Heads of Houses took the Quidditch Championship to heart, gloating and jumping up and down in glee when needed.

"10 points to Slytherin!" bellowed the commentary as the players carried on regardless.

Mark threw the quaffle out to Gryffindor possession, looking shame faced at his early mistake. Terry circled the pitch above, though anyone looking upwards would see his shaking fists. Whether it was aimed at the Slytherins or his keeper, no-one could be sure. Meanwhile Eva and Sirius were still doing their allocated round. When the scoring chaser stayed still for a moment in a celebration loop Sirius managed to smack a bludger with startling accuracy straight into his back before disappearing up the other end of the pitch, as unobtrusive as smoke. The injury was obviously a blow to the Slytherin crowd as they booed menacingly. Sirius spotted his brother leering from the crowd with many of the cronies, his lip sneered with an evil grin and he quickly stuck his fingers up at them before flying off, in search of more bludgers.

Each and every player was flying well, some interesting manoeuvres being pulled off by both teams of chasers. The Gryffindor beating duo was better than the Slytherin, yet the Slytherin chasers had the upper hand; managing to shoulder barge their way into possession of the quaffle. While James gave as much as he had to give in retaliation, the other two were a lot smaller, dwarfed by the massive Slytherins and could not barge back for fear of falling from their brooms. Instead they nipped in and out as the quaffle was passed from one green chaser to another, swooping in, grabbing the red ball and darting between them and heading straight for the goal posts. Both seekers hovered around the pitch nervously; their eyes peeled for the snitch, an early catch would be safe for both of them.

The whistle blew several times in the next fifteen minutes of exhilarating flying and battles for quaffle possession.

"Slytherin 150! Gryffindor 80!"

Terry was obviously anxious at this news, searching the pitch with a greater frenzy than before. If the Slytherins scored much more it would be almost impossible to manage a win, unless they equalised in goals and then caught the snitch.

The next blow to the Gryffindor team was a bludger to Mark at his hoops. He fell from his broom, only managing to hold on by one hand as the Slytherins scored. When the chasers returned hoping to score another goal they were smashed apart like bowling pins by a well aimed bludger from Eva. The quaffle however, had already left their hands, heading straight towards one of the exposed goal hoops.

"AND TRENCH SAVED IT!" roared the commentary.

For Mark had indeed managed to kick the quaffle away, into the waiting hands of Sophie who immediately used the stands to dart out of the way of the recovering Slytherin chasers. Mark grinned triumphantly as he managed to climb back onto his broom. His spectacular save seemed to have redeemed him in the eyes of Terry who briefly joined him by the goal hoops. He mentioned a word before flying off again, giving instructions to his players as he passed them; it was too dangerous for him to claim the snitch whilst they were getting increasingly behind. Eva was soon set to tailing the Slytherin seeker, pelting a continuous stream of bludgers at him, distracting him from any catch he may make. Sirius shot around the pitch a lot faster than he was already travelling, attacking the bludgers with an enormous amount of energy, his handsome face dripping with sweat under the sun which was now high in the sky.

James, Terence and Sophie, passed constantly from one to the other, weaving all over the pitch. They had soon scored another four goals for Gryffindor. The game had been in play for nearly two hours already and it seemed that no-one had even had a sighting of the snitch, the players were getting tired and hot as the sun crawled every higher over their heads. The crowd was getting more and more frenzied as the scores got higher and higher. Sirius managed to knock out a Slytherin beater, giving him a little respite for the meantime. Sophie was in possession of the quaffle, her hair whipping around her face, as she zoomed towards the hoops. Either side of her the Slytherin chasers were closing in, their leering facers getting closer every second, just before...

"AND SHE'S IN THE STANDS! WHERE IS THE JUSTICE HERE? PENALTY!!!!"

It seemed that all of the red, blue and yellow in the crowd were in agreement as Sophie was shoulder barged straight into the stands of the crowds. She could just be distinguished between all of the Hufflepuff colours of the crowd. They quickly brought her around and she resumed flight, taking a penalty for Gryffindor, which missed by inches as she swayed slightly on her broom.

From there on, the match got progressively dirtier, with a lot more shouting from the crowd and the commentator as foul after foul was committed, the Slytherin chasers being the main offenders. Eva managed to knock the Slytherin seeker from the air with a bludger and joined Sirius for a while whilst the seeker was recovering at the side. She balanced the bat deftly in her hand, whilst Sirius had his under a tightly closed fist. They both used a mixture of beating skills and when Professor Cruntchen wasn't looking they attempted to shoulder barge their quarry from the air. The Slytherins did exactly the same. Their next foul was the two beaters flying fast paced towards Mark, their bats raised as though to attack him, one of them managing to smash a bludger towards him. The chasers followed in possession of the quaffle, James and Terence hot on their heels, Sophie skirting around the edge, ready to catch the ball. Seeing the crash that was no doubtedly going to happen, Sirius darted into their midst, smashing into the Slytherin chasers, knocking them from their path and knocking the quaffle from his hands before shooting off. A great metallic donging sound came from the Gryffindor hoops as Mark dodged the bludger and it struck the metal ring. Professor Cruntchen was soon bellowing at Sirius for his foul and awarded Slytherin a penalty and then giving Gryffindor quaffle possession for the beater's attack on their keeper. He watched them all sternly as the game commenced.

Before long the Gryffindors were beginning to catch up, so that Terry could swoop in and catch the snitch, they were all sweating furiously under the relentless glare of the sun as the Slytherin seeker managed to join the game once more.

The finale however was a good hour later still, the scores dodging from one lead to another 420 to Gryffindor 460 to Slytherin. At one end of the pitch Terry spotted the snitch, at the base of the Slytherin hoops, his broom was immediately twisted around in that direction and he shot towards his target, arms outstretched, face contorted into concentration as he realised that the Slytherin seeker had also seen the fluttering of golden wings, they were so much closer than he. Ten metres, five metres, two metres. Elsewhere in the game they had no idea that the snitch had been spotted, carrying on as normal, the dirty play carrying on here there and everywhere, it was only the crowd that was watching the two seekers with baited breath.

All at once one quarter of the stadium began to roar in delight, whilst another quarter began to boo. The snitch was raised in a gloved fist triumphantly, the house cup theirs at last.

Then suddenly a harsh intake of breath came from every corner of the stadium, whether friend or enemy. One of the Slytherin beaters had a bludger heading straight towards him his bat poised, his aim clearly on Eva, who was desperately trying to work out who had won the match. A crack came from the impact of the bludger and the bat and before anyone could really anticipate what was happening Eva was falling head first from her broom, one arm swinging around in a grotesque fashion, the bat plummeted to the ground with her.

For the second time that year she was plummeting into darkness, in excruciating pain, fighting to stay conscious. Once again, her world blacked out as a strong pair of arms caught her.

James hefted Eva's form onto his broomstick and immediately shot towards the ground, the other players were starting to do the same as the crowd desperately tried to make out which seeker had the snitch after all. Sirius pelted a bludger at the Slytherin beater with all of his force, the triumphant crows of his brothers ringing in his ears.

"Sticking up for your girlfriend eh Black!"

Sirius swung around to see that he was near those same stands again, Regulus taunting him from over the edge, malice glinting in his eye. Sirius sneered once more and stuck his finger up at him before shooting towards the ground; Eva was not his girlfriend and never would be.

She was laid out on a stretcher unconscious and being led off by the school Healer Madam Cecille to the hospital wing. The Gryffindor team congregated together, their teammate safe in the hands of the healer. The Slytherin team were celebrating further off from them, James had to keep a firm hand on Sirius' shoulder as he strained to go and attack them. Terry looked terrible, the spark gone from his eye, his last chance to take the Quidditch cup was gone, though for the Slytherins it was a hollow victory. The stands had already emptied and it was only the two Quidditch teams that got to see them raise the Quidditch cup.

The Gryffindor team all changed quickly and left, apart from James. He sat in the Gryffindor changing rooms quietly, contemplating the match, his rectangular glasses sitting next to him on the bench his only company. He was absolutely devastated that they had not won after such a desperate struggle, he was so sure that they were to win it at last, sadly it wasn't to be, he couldn't face the gloating just yet. He put his head in his hands and stared at his knees for a while, he would go up to the hospital wing later, to see whether Eva had come round yet, to see whether anyone had broken the bad news to her yet.

"Oh, you're in here."

James looked up to see a figure all too familiar to him standing in the doorway. Her hair was tied up in the heat and she was carrying Eva's broom over one shoulder. She surveyed the room quickly and shot across to where Eva's things lay on the bench. James popped his glasses on and she came into better focus.

"You sound disappointed," remarked James. "Can't say I blame you after our hammering," he added dejectedly standing up with a slight swagger, barely noticeable apart from the over critical eyes of Lily Evans.

"Actually I thought it was very brave of you to catch her like that. She could well have knocked you from your own broom." Lily shot James a weak smile with her comment which suddenly made James' heart skip a beat. "Anyway, Quidditch scores do not matter to me."

She stood awkwardly with Eva's things in her arms, watching James coolly; he could see that she was trying to work out what to say, or whether she had already said more than she wanted to. She had always managed a level of civility with James, even when he was a pain, but a level of certain admiration was not usually seen. James stepped a little closer, he was a lot taller than her now, over the years he had shot up whilst she seemed to grow smaller and smaller. She always said that it was simply his head swelling that made him seem taller. 

"Listen Evans," he said slightly awkwardly, very aware of the fact that she was holding a beater's bat. "Why were you staring at me this morning?"

Lily looked alarmed at the question, like a rabbit before headlights, a total change in her demeanour. James watched her intensely, trying to read her mind. He had never been good at reading the reaction of people; perhaps if he had he would already be going out with the girl standing in front of him. Well she had just said he was brave, women liked bravery didn't they? Perhaps this time he stood a chance, she couldn't blame him for trying anyway.

"If I was staring at you, which I doubt," she said slowly and carefully gathering pace. "I doubt that it was intentional, or I suspected you of something." Her words were measured and she kept a cool facade, he still trying desperately to read her body language. "After all, Prefects are supposed to keep an eye out for trouble makers."

"So you just suspected me of trouble making in the morning of an important Quidditch match," said James sceptically. "Do you honestly think I was up to trouble, to risk missing the possible triumph of Gryffindor by getting detention? I don't think so somehow Evans. Besides, I was under the impression that you had Remus on Marauder watching duty."

"Well I'm sure that Remus turns a blind eye on your shenanigans, it doesn't hurt to keep an extra eye out." 

"But on the morning of a Quidditch match?" James pressed on. "You know that I don't prank on Quidditch match days, I don't want to miss the final again like in fourth year." He had stepped closer to Lily with his words and he could see her nerves making her shake. "You weren't looking at me with suspicion Evans." 

"Then what was it Potter," retorted Lily. "Or do I really not want to know."

"I think you know exactly what I am thinking, do I need to spell it out to you Lily?" asked James, a slight grin sweeping across his mouth.

"If you think I ever looked at you with desire, love, lust or even a mere crush you are very mistaken," defended Lily hotly.

That last sentence gave it away, she was making up excuses in her head, he could tell that much, she was hiding something, pushing it far back, keeping the hostility going. He sighed slightly, relaxing his shoulders before taking the things from her arms and resting them on the bench. His hands went gently to her shoulders, his thumbs moving in slow, soothing circles. His hazel eyes met her vivid green ones before he uttered quietly:

"Look me in the eye and say that you don't feel a thing."

His voice was low, pleasant and measured, as hers had been, but unlike hers, the words came straight from the soul. His thumbs still worked smooth circles on her shoulders. She looked at him puzzled for a moment, unable to answer, her mouth slightly open as she tried to think of a reply. His words had a chilling affect on her spine and shocked her into a loss of reaction. James found that his head was moving closer to hers, until he could count almost every eyelash, and name every shade of green in her eyes. His lips were mere centimetres from hers.

"Look at me and tell me that you don't love me."

She looked at him properly a searching look, he allowed a small smile, getting even closer still, and he thought that this time he was going to get his kiss from Lily. For a second it seemed his thoughts may be true when...

THWACK!

James stumbled back, clutching a stinging red cheek. He whirled around and as he lurched forward to grab Lily by the wrist, she had disappeared out of the door, the handle of a broomstick poking out over her shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3 Lessons and Pranks

"That's him!"

"What?"

"That's him, the one who caught that Goshawk girl yesterday in the Quidditch match!"

James looked blearily up from his plate, his eyes meeting the gaze of a group of assorted first years; their faces were covered in awe and amazement, completely star struck to be so close to one of the Gryffindor house players. James tried to force a smile in their direction, but when they noticed that he could see them talking about him, they hastily turned away and took seats just a little further down the Gryffindor house table.

"Looks like you have yourself a fan club mate," murmured Sirius from next to James, he was a little dispirited, but not as much as James. For Sirius Quidditch was a fun hobby in which to pass the time, for James it was a passion.

They had suffered a hard fought loss which meant that the Slytherins once again managed to procure the Quidditch cup; none of the players enjoyed the return journey to their house that night, for they knew the look of disappointment that would strike them as soon as they entered the room. Their fears certainly came true, the disappointment in the common room was unbearable, it seemed as though each and every student in the whole school had turned up, whether they liked Quidditch or loathed it, even the girls who had no interest in the sport, offered their sympathy as the team trudged in. Each of the players were patted so many times on the back, that they felt as though they had lost a few vertebrate, particularly James who was congratulated several times for his miraculous catch. The only person who had been spared the bitter disappointment was Eva. She had been confined to the hospital wing for a day or so for her arm to heal. However the bitter disappointment of the Gryffindor house was a mild pain compared to the gloating and jeers that they received from the Slytherins that morning.

"Will they ever shut up?" commented Remus absent-mindedly as the Slytherins once again struck up some crude song.

"They're Slytherins, they never bloody shut up," growled Sirius, before glancing at his younger brother on the Slytherin table. "At least you guys never lived with any of them."

"At least Snape can't gloat yet," pointed out James. "The stupid git is still in the hospital wing, thank Merlin."

"I was talking about the first years actually," corrected Remus, "though the Slytherins are getting on my wick as well."

James glanced back at the first years quickly; they were talking in hushed tones, whispering frantically to one another, one by one chancing a glance at him in turn. James raised a slightly amused eyebrow; it was hard for his head not to inflate when he was admired even after a devastating loss. One of them noticed him watching them and looked quite startled; James shot him a grin which sent them all into renewed hysterics which caused James to raise his eyebrows yet again.

"They are wondering how you fly like that," said a horribly familiar voice.

James faced in the normal direction again as Lily joined the congregation, her personality completely normal, as though she had never even considered slapping James Potter around the face in her life. She deftly buttered herself some toast and rolled her eyes at the chattering first years.

"I don't see what they see in the stupid sport," she commented, "it's only an excuse for guys like you and Sirius to fly around and make the girls swoon at your 'skill', then cry like babies when you fall off." She grinned at James with a mischievous glint in her eye at the look of indignation that fell across James' face. "And that's you crying, not the fan girls," she added.

"It is not a stupid sport!" cried James.

"And it's not an excuse for us handsome young men to show off," butted in Sirius, before James could finish, "Eva plays Quidditch and little Sophie Clark, Sophie's a good little player and Eva's like one of the guys on the pitch."

"Yes well Eva's just like one of the guys when she's on the ground as well," retorted Lily, "and we all know that Sophie was more or less bullied into joining the team by her father, he's a Professional, and of course he'd want his daughter to play. Why do you think the Slytherin team is all guys? Because they like to show off," she grinned. Lily may have been a Prefect, but she had been well known for her cheek as soon as she settled into Hogwarts.

Sirius glared at Lily defiantly, his mouth twitching as though he were going to say something else, however decided otherwise, instead resorting to stabbing his bacon extremely violently. Instead James took up the argument, with an interested looking Peter ready to interject a word or two when ready.

"Before you judge us on our want to show off," said James coolly, "let me ask you a question."

"Go on," replied Lily.

"How long did you spend on your hair, make-up and clothes this morning?"

There was a sharp intake of breath from the four boys as James cocked an eyebrow at the end of his question, feeling triumphant already. He knew that he could well get into a long argument, he also knew that it would get him nowhere in Lily's good books, particularly after being so bold the night before. However, he didn't really care, after such a blow with the Quidditch cup, he felt like a good argument and it was probably better in the long run to have an argument with Lily about showing off, over a punch up with the Slytherin Quidditch captain. Lily meanwhile remained impassive, keeping a firm gaze with James and the other Marauders.

"If my beauty tips are such a show off point," she finally commented, "then how come I haven't had a swarm of first years pestering me with compacts and hair clips, itching for beauty tips?"

"Perhaps they don't work," commented Sirius icily, flinching slightly as James kicked him from below the table.

"As far as I have noticed, and forgive me if I'm wrong," said James, keeping the overly polite tone of cheek, "but it seems to me that you are implying that people pester me for tips in some form. As far as I recount, nobody pesters me."

"What are you're fan club doing just over there then?" demanded Lily. "It seems to me that they must be over here for a reason, not even all of them are Gryffindors."

"Well they haven't come to me gagging to kiss my shoes yet, so quit the judging please," retorted James, his voice showing just a little anger.

Lily simply smiled and seemed to back down at his anger, munching calmly on her toast, which James found even the more infuriating. How could she be so pleasant to him after the night before? He didn't get girls, he really didn't. In his fourth year he had gone on many dating sprees to try and win Lily with jealousy, when he first fell for her, he thought that he knew every trick of the trade when it came to the female species, yet each and every woman he met still utterly confused him. He preoccupied himself with his breakfast for a moment as he silently fumed, but after a few minutes he was interrupted from his bitterness.

"S'cuse me?"

James looked up to find that Lily had gone from the Great Hall and there was a Gryffindor first year standing at his side.

"What d'you want?" he grumbled.

The first year looked slightly put off by the reaction from James, glancing nervously back at his friends. When he received encouraging nods and whispers he forced himself to turn around again, facing James with an extremely worried expression, talking to a sixth year was certainly a daunting task.

"I was just wondering whether you could give us some tips on flying?" he asked, wringing his hands with nerves.

"Wha?" exclaimed James, not quite believing his ears.

"What is going on here Mr Potter?" asked a very stern voice from behind him.

James wheeled around to face his Head of House, Professor McGonagall. She had dispensed with the Gryffindor scarf yet still wore her trademark tartan; James couldn't help but notice that there wasn't as much pride in her eyes as there had been present the day before, before the start of the match. In fact she looked even more disappointed than most of the students. 

"I was just asking whether he would give me some flying tips Professor McGonagall," replied the slightly gutsy first year on James' behalf.

"Excellent idea," proclaimed Professor McGonagall. "I know how disappointed some of the first years have been this year with their flying lessons being cancelled because Professor Cruntchen was injured. I know that a lot of students have never had the chance to even touch a broom before, let alone ride one. You certainly have enough experience of flying to do the job Mr Potter," she added with a hint of a smile, "It would almost be compensation to Gryffindor, for your loss yesterday," she added coldly, with a look of disdain that flashed to the Slytherin table.

James cringed ever so slightly at the prospect as Professor McGonagall's attention was drawn to the Slytherin table; he then glanced at the hopeful looking first year.

"Oh go on then," he muttered darkly, "I'll see you on the Quidditch pitch at six."

The first year looked as though he could not quite believe his luck and trotted off, as did McGonagall. Only when they were out of ear shot and line of sight did James turn around and smack his head on the table. When he had a sufficient headache he looked up at the others.

"If Evans hears about this from any of you, you will pay. Understand?" he ordered.

The others simply nodded, snorting into their breakfast at James; he shot them all a death glare and carried on attacking his food. How could the week get any worse?

Lessons that day did not improve James' mood. His first lesson was double transfiguration, in which he managed to receive extra homework in transfiguration for turning his shows into hedgehogs instead of copying out the notes on the board about exam topics. Professor McGonagall doubled the length of his essay from two scrolls to four on why you cannot transfigure an invertebrate into a vertebrate. Then there was the potions lesson when he proceeded to chop up his ingredients so viciously that the knife ended up flying from his grasp, cutting a lock of hair off of Elladora Flint. By the time break had arrived he was in an extremely foul mood indeed, not only did he have to spend his time after lessons talking to some first years and probably teaching them to fly, but he also had to write an apology letter to both Slughorn and Elladora, not to mention all of his homework for Professor McGonagall.

"It's not the end of the world," proclaimed Peter as the four boys went outside for a breath of fresh air before they went off their various ways.

"Well this is as close as I ever want to be going," grumbled James in reply. "You do realise that I have Divination now with that batty old bat and all of the giggling horoscope freaks."

Sirius' bark like laughter rang through the air as they reached the tree they always sat beneath. "Well you shouldn't have taken the subject then should you?" he laughed, "You should have taken care of magical creatures instead, we have loads of fun in those lessons don't we Moony?"

Remus nodded in agreement before continuing for Sirius, "or you could have taken ancient runes, those lessons aren't too bad. But no, you had to take divination and arithmancy, tell me James, do you enjoy punishing yourself?"

James slapped Remus around the head and dumped his bag down on the grass before throwing himself down as well. He was the only one out of the four who actually took divination. Remus had taken ancient runes and care of magical creatures, Peter took ancient runes and arithmancy, Sirius took care of magical creatures and Muggle studies, purely because he knew that it would tick off his parents. However James had taken divination, thinking that it would be a doddle, he tried to get the others to join him but they wouldn't budge from what they wanted to do. They had originally planned to do exactly the same subjects but the idea soon went out of the window. 

Their break was pretty much uneventful, their time mainly spent upon lounging around girl spotting, though they had been at Hogwarts so long that they had spotted them all before, Sirius, Peter and Remus avoided talking to James in any shape or form because of his terrible mood. In fact it was almost a relief for them when it was time to go back to lessons and they could get away from the angry cloud that seemed to hover above his head like a death omen. James grumbled mightily as he stormed through the castle, leaving Peter on the third floor for his lesson then ascended even further up the castle on his own.

"Stupid bloody stairs," he muttered darkly as he passed some giggling fourth year Ravenclaws on the giant staircase. "We have bloody magic and yet even the Muggles can get up a building quicker than we can! Them and their bloody escapators, what sort of stupid name is that anyway?"

His grumbling continued all of the way up to the seventh floor when he had to ascend yet more spiralling stairs to reach the top of the divination tower. Why the divination Professor wanted to basically live in the rafters he could not fathom, then again, she was a very peculiar sort of woman. James shuddered slightly as he thought of Professor Hemlock; she was a wrinkly old woman with glasses so thick and foggy that they were doing more harm than good. She had grey hair which she constantly charmed bright purple, which never worked properly, so her head looked like a patchwork quilt. She had a wide frog's mouth which showed her odd assortment of real and fake teeth. Then there was the smell, she was constantly burning all forms of herbs and incense sticks that were so pungent that James often felt like gagging and rolling onto the floor, but then on top of that there was her perfume, which smelt a little like extremely strong lilies, with a waft of cheese and salt, it was enough to blow someone's nose into next week. But what really drove James mad was her voice and mannerisms; she put on the most awful, fake French accent when the entire school knew that there wasn't a drop of French blood in her body. She would flap about the room proclaiming all sorts of nonsense in her fake voice, gesticulating wildly with her hands often when holding incense sticks, she would then swoop down on an unsuspecting student and stare them full in the face, with her hands still going wildly, twice she had got an incense stick up a student's nose, some claimed she did it on purpose.

James finally reached the trapdoor that lead up into the divination classroom, it descended before his feet, one his very first lesson it had been extremely impressive but since then it had lost all theatrical value. He climbed the golden menace begrudgingly all too prepared for the flying shawls and Merlin knows what other garments as soon as he stepped into the classroom.

"Meestairrrrr Pottairrrr! You arrrre late!" cried Professor Hemlock rolling her 'r's terribly as James pulled himself through the trapdoor, stopping momentarily to free his trapped bag.

"Only by about a minute Professor," he answered as calmly as he could whilst brushing off his robes.

"I don't carrrre whezzer it was un mineet or un thousand! You arrre late!" she cried indignantly. "Ten points from Gryffindorrrr!"

James rolled his eyes and took his seat at the back of the class on his own as Professor Hemlock huffed indignantly and returned to her place at the front. It was not a good start to what promised to be a useless lesson. James was the only boy in the class and equally the only one with absolutely no interest in the subject, so he sat alone and brooded nearly every lesson. James grumbled as he noticed that the window where he sat was not open, it would only increase the stifling heat of the room, particularly in the summer time, he would have to try and edge over there undetected as the Professor waffled.

The lesson got off onto a boring start with Professor Hemlock reading out her pre-prepared horoscopes to the amazement and delight of the girls as they heard their 'fortune'. James tried to block out the sounds of delight as he edged closer to the window inch by inch. After a couple of minutes of shuffling and edging one of the school house elves came around bearing a crystal ball and depositing it upon James' table before scurrying off to deliver even more. Professor Hemlock was the only teacher who insisted upon a house elf to aid her lessons and true to form this one wore a different item from all of the others, a strange mystical tapestry worn like a shawl which was way too long. James shrugged and continued to edge towards the window with the vain hope of some fresh air and some ignorant bliss.

"Meestairrr Pottairrr!"

James spun around so quick that the room seemed to spin before his eyes and his head spun painfully. "Yes Professor."

"I waz rrrreading out your 'orrroscope," Professor Hemlock declared, "You were not lizening! Not tell me meestairrr Pottairr, what iz your date of birth?"

James withheld the urge to say exactly what was on his mind, the fact that she was already about to read it out yet had once again forgotten his star sign, instead he bit his tongue and answered in the politest tone possible: "The twenty seventh of March Professor."

"Okay zen, ze twenty seventh of Mars is Gemini," she declared to the room before striding around once more, putting on an affected theatrical voice as she began to read out the horoscope for Gemini. "Ze moon iz in an oppositional alignment wiz yourrr house zis month, zis means zat whilst those born of zis month will be receiving good luck and grrreat fortune, you will not. Yourr family life iz to take a turn for ze worse when a blood relateev held most dear will mizzunderstand you with a mattairrr close to your 'art. Whilst yourrr fortune and work will remain preetee stable, yourrr love life iz about to strike rock bottom; when a chance to impress goes terreebly wrong, you are in forrr a rrrrrough ride." The Professor ended her theatrical voice and gesticulations before turning around to face James. "Well eet seems to me zat per'aps you are alrrready striking this bad luck no?" she commented fixing James with a beady gaze.

Many of the girls turned around and giggled at James, others shot him a sympathetic looked, including Susan his fellow Gryffindor student. It seemed that they had all received glowing horoscopes that predicted good luck and most illuminating love lives, whereas his seemed a little more over prepared and gloomy. James simply glared at them all until they turned back around to face the gleeful Professor and then pondered his horoscope, he generally dismissed them but on the couple of occasions he couldn't help but contemplate the possibility of it being true.

The class spent the rest of the lesson crystal ball gazing whilst Professor Hemlock drifted between them all and taking a peek into the 'future' of her students, occasionally performing her gift of the inner eye to a captive audience. When the time finally came for the class to leave James was the first to descend the ladder and saunter slowly to his next lesson.

The end of the school day finally came to a close and even though James wouldn't admit it, he was actually quite looking forward to his time out on the Quidditch pitch, no-one could pick fault or spoil his fun when he was in the air, because in the air he was totally free. He strode through the grounds with a sense of purpose, his robes rippling out after him as he approached the Quidditch pitch, he could already make out the rippling form of the flags. He was expecting a couple of young eager Gryffindor students, many of them Muggle born and never have used a broomstick before besides sweeping a floor. James shuddered with the thought of using his pride and joy to sweep a floor with; it was a Cleansweep, the latest and best model, the pride and joy of any Quidditch team in the country.

When he pushed past one of the gates into the Quidditch pitch his expectations of the afternoon were changed somewhat, there were at least twenty first years already congregated there, mainly Gryffindors but with a scattering of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, even a lone Slytherin had dared turn up, how they had come to know James had no idea. He stood stock still for a moment allowing the gate to swing closed with a mighty clatter behind him whilst taking in the numbers; none of them had even bothered finding a broomstick. He soon sought out the kid that had asked him to help originally and strode over to him, his bad mood back with vengeance.

"How many people have you bloody well brought along?" he cried in despair upon reaching the tiny first year.

The first year shrunk under James' rage yet answered hesitantly. "Well ... as soon as someone else heard ... the word ... well ... it just kinda spread you see. Before long the whole year ... well ... the whole year wants to know how to fly!" he shot a glance at the rest of the congregation. "Not everyone is even here yet."

James rolled his head onto the back of his shoulders and took a couple of calming breaths before turning back to the group, dumping his broomstick beside him on the floor so as he was free to stride about dominantly.

"Just go and grab some brooms," he muttered before adding in a louder tone, "but if anyone gets on my nerves I'll go. I have about a million other things I could be doing at the moment and this is going to take longer than anticipated."

The first years grinned widely and raced to the broom cupboard that James pointed out to them in his little speech. James meanwhile sat on the grass and picked at the blades idly as one by one their numbers grew. Slowly all of the first years and even a handful of second years had joined him seating on the grass and were watching expectantly, waiting for him to start giving out instructions or tips. When he was eventually satisfied that the numbers were not going to grow he stood up, motioning for the others to remain in their places.

"Quidditch is pretty much the international sport of wizards," he started slowly, lazily, whilst summoning the ball crate from the store cupboard. "Yes you need to learn to fly, but first I may as well get the basic talking over and done with, so just stay with me for a moment. Basically there are four different positions in the game, making up a team of seven: three chasers, two beaters, a keeper and a seeker. Equally there are four balls: the quaffle, two bludgers and the golden snitch." He reached down and opened the ball crate, first picking out the quaffle. "The quaffle is a simple red ball that the three chasers throw around the pitch and try to get through the other teams goal hoops and scoring ten points for their team, the keeper of the other team would try and stop the ball from going through the vice versa. Now the ..."

James trailed off as a hand rose into the air, he felt extremely weird actually talking to so many people as though he were a teacher that it took him completely by surprise. "Urm ... yeah," he stuttered slightly.

"What are the goal hoops?" asked the boy with his hand waving around in the air like a drunken flower.

"The hoops at each end of the pitch you are sitting on you muppet!" answered James rudely, not quite managing to believe that someone would ask such a stupid question. "Now shut up and listen."

He gathered a little more of his dignity and carried on his talk. "Now this ball ... " he grunted ever so slightly as he wrestled a struggling bludger out of its clasps and held it beneath his arm, reaching down for a beater's bat, "is a bludger. The whole point of the bludger is it flies around on its own free will and tried to knock players from their broom. However each team has two beaters, who fly around with these bats, they knock the bludgers away from their team players and into their opposition. You have to be pretty sturdy and strong to withstand these guys, either that, or have the ability to out manoeuvre one. Then lastly you have the golden snitch, which is ... " he secured the bludger and pulled out the small, struggling golden snitch, "the golden snitch. This little ball is the key to the game; it is extremely fast and as you can see extremely small. The seekers fly around the pitch and try to catch it, only the seekers can catch it mind you, once they have caught the snitch they procure one hundred and fifty points for their team and that is the end of the game."

He stuffed the ball bag into its compartment and swung the ball crate shut. "Any questions?"

None of the first or second years raised their hands; in fact some of them looked too terrified to actually ask anything if they wanted to. James grinned with triumph as not a single hand even twitched.

"Good then, we can get you all onto those brooms!"

The first years jumped to their feet, some even mounted their brooms presuming that it all worked like that. James soon set them straight and within a quarter of an hour each and every one of them were in the air, though some were obviously a lot more daring and brave than others when their feet were not on the ground. James shot around on his own broom, correcting those that were going wrong and coaxing those who were nervous into going higher, though James' form of 'coaxing' was calling them a coward until they finally got fed up and shot higher into the air.

Eventually James was pretty pleased with their ability to fly and suggested that they could perhaps play an extremely simple version of Quidditch in which only the quaffle was in play. He divided them into two teams and the least confident player in each team was given a keeper position. He then threw them the quaffle from the ground and let them get on with it, hovering on his broom a little higher than them and keeping an eye on each and every one of them. However after a while he became bored. Watching the first years chuck a quaffle around did not even come close to the thrill that came with Quidditch. It was like watching some really pathetic sissy girls playing netball, you always have the feeling that being in a basketball match with some large burly blokes would be a lot more entertaining, and dangerous. It was the danger that always made a sport that much more interesting, Quidditch was most definitely no exception.

James got so bored that he eventually scanned the stands, some of the first years had actually left to go and sit when they saw some of their class mates in the sky, most of them were girls, yet a lone Hufflepuff boy also sat on his own watching wistfully. James shrugged and didn't allow the drop-outs to bug him, he wasn't going to put himself out even further, Merlin forbid they could make him Prefect for doing such a thing! There was also Professor McGonagall in the stands, joined by Professor Flitwick; James presumed that they wanted to oversee the proceedings since so many first years had been interested, just in case one of them fell to their doom or something along those lines. Then there was someone else, a girl with fiery red hair.

"Oh hell," muttered James coming to an abrupt halt as he spotted Lily Evans sitting in the stands.

"WATCH OUT!"

James twirled around sharply as he heard the shout from behind him and caught the ball in one hand before tucking it under his arm.

"Bad play Dickinson," he said, trying to push Lily from his mind, whoever had sent her there would be in serious trouble. "If I was a Slytherin chaser then I could already have scored two goals, you need to pass sharper, fly quicker and always, I mean always catch the quaffle. A single slip of the fingers can lose you the entire game." He sent the young boy a piercing glance. "Tell you what, you guys continue playing, I'm going to nip in and out, show you exactly how many ways and opportunities there are to pinch the quaffle and score," he grinned roguishly, a little part of him wanting the competition, a little part of him to gain some pride back in his flying skills, and a little part of him wanting to show off in front of Lily.

"Let's play Quidditch ladies and germs."

It was growing dark when Professor McGonagall finally called a halt to the proceedings, all of the first years groaned in disappointment; they had got as far to having one bludger flying around the pitch and two beaters per team. Even James who had not really wanted to come to the pitch that evening didn't want to finish the lesson, it felt good to be in charge of them all. Slowly all of the students dispersed until it was only the two Professors, James and Lily left behind. Professor McGonagall and Lily made a beeline for James whilst Professor Flitwick put all of the equipment away that they had gradually accumulated over the hours.

"Well done Potter," said Professor McGonagall as she reached James, "you've found some little gems there, at least one of them will make the Gryffindor team next year I am sure of it. And since this has taken you such a long time which I am sure you were not expecting I believe a little reward is in order," she paused for a moment looking at James' expectant face. "Forty points for Gryffindor Mr Potter and I will only be requiring three scrolls of parchment for your essay, which I believe will be more manageable with your time left before you leave for the summer."

James thanked the Professor heartily before she left and turned to leave.

"Forgetting about me?" asked Lily running up behind James and following him through the grounds.

"How could I?" said James without realising that he had even said it.

"Oh, so I presume that you saw me in the stands," answered Lily unabashed. "I apologise for coming if you didn't want me to, but all of the first years have been talking about it all day, it seems to me that it has been the highlight of their lives. Flying with the magnificent James Potter. When I saw Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick coming down, I had to come and see what all of the excitement was all about."

James looked at her in slight surprise, she had never even come to quoting someone else on James' Quidditch glory, and praise from Lily about Quidditch was certainly a high one indeed. She had praised him on his transfiguration skills and ability to cheer other people up before, but always insisted that she hated Quidditch and anything to do with it. Not only that, she wasn't gloating about what she had said at breakfast coming true.

"So none of the others told you, not even Remus on your patrolling?" asked James.

"No, no-one told me," laughed Lily. "I came on my own curiosity and I even have a little good news for you," she smiled at James who in turn perked up a little more. "I have spoken to Professor Slughorn and he said that you need only write an apology to Elladora for the potions lesson."

"That bloke really does like you doesn't he?" grinned James not even bothering to question how Lily had got him out of it. "But why? Why suddenly get me out of trouble, no less for something I actually did!"

"Let's call it a little present for not bothering Severus recently," replied Lily as they rounded the trees. "I mean, I know that Sirius got that entire potion on him, but you haven't bothered him in ages, I asked you to lay off and you have. Anyway Slughorn is full of himself enough as it is, no need for you to go around grovelling at his feet. It's not like you meant to throw that knife, I saw it, you just let your hand accidentally slip for a moment. You may be a bit of a twit sometimes, but you don't often throw knives around the common room!"

James' face fell as he heard her justification for helping him out with Slughorn. It was true he hadn't bugged Snape in ages, but there were some modified chocolates ready and waiting, had they even been slipped to him yet? He put on an impassive face as they started to near the castle, just chatting amiably as if nothing had come between them in a week, let along a slap between them twenty four hours before. Yet James could not get the image of the chocolates out of his mind as they walked up the front steps of the castle to the huge front door and pushed it open.

Before them lay an extremely busy scene, there was a large circle of students in the centre of the entrance hall laughing amongst themselves at what must have been in the middle of the circle.

"For Merlin's sake, do I have to do everything around here?" said Lily exasperatedly scanning the room for someone who could help her, she finally turned to James. "I can't see any of the other Prefects; they must be on their patrols. Could you possibly lend me a hand? We're told not to break up such huge crowds on our own."

James nodded, finding it odd that there were even regulations on what a Prefect could and couldn't do. Lily pulled him by the arm threw the crowd and tried to get up the front. In the end James, being a lot larger pushed through instead until they were in the centre of the circle when James froze on the spot.

In the middle of the circle lay a boy with his face covered in a large pink mass of bubblegum, only a few strands of his greasy black hair could be seen through the bubbles. Severus Snape. Lily gasped in shock as she realised who it was and rushed to try and help him, falling to the floor heavily.

"James!" she screamed. "He can't breath. For Merlin's sake help me!"

Her voice jolted James into his sense, true enough there was no way that Snape could possibly breathe, the bubbles that protruded from his nose had grown to such proportion that they had engulfed his head and blocked his mouth as well. James may have hated Snape, but there was no way that he wanted him to die by his hand, the bubblegum trick had originally conjured a comical picture in his head, yet the scene before them was not funny by any stretch of the imagination. James sunk to his knees besides Lily, blasting a spell at the students who were edging closer still laughing.

"BACK OFF UNLESS YOU'RE GOING TO HELP!" he bellowed hoarsely before turning back to Snape who was writhing uncontrollably on the floor.

"What can we do?!" screamed Lily, losing any of the calm which she originally possessed, James then noticed that she had been trying to pop it, but was failing miserably.

"Freeze it," he answered, grabbing Lily's hands as she tried to pin Snape to the floor and hold him still, he had to bellow to make himself heard again. "Help me freeze it Lily, then it will break, come on Lily we need to freeze it. If only he would stay bloody still."

They both drew their wands and between them managed to hold Snape still, pinned to the floor. At the same time they issued a burst of cold air and snow which engulfed Snape's entire upper body and head, freezing the two bubbles that still appeared to be growing from his nose. James first tried punching the bubbles to break them, as he didn't want to use a spell in case it his Snape's face as well.

"Stay here just a second," he muttered to Lily as he barged his way through the growing crowd of milling students.

"SEV! It's Lily, please, I need you to stay still!"

James heard Lily repeat the words over and over again making a terrible racket in the entrance hall as he finally found what he wanted, a stone statue of a raven which had an extremely sharp beak. He ploughed back through the crowd where Lily was managing to calm Snape down, though his hands were twitching with his last reserves of what oxygen he had managed to gather. James plunged the raven statue into one side of the bubble, it shattered a little like ice would shatter and screams erupted from the back of the crowd from those who had no idea what the noise was. He repeated the same on the other side of the bubble with the same effect, Snape rolled out gasping for breath, his hands clutching wildly at the air. Lily gave a little scream and grabbed hold of his flailing hands, talking and muttering whilst tears streamed down her face.

James let the raven statue drop to the floor only just realising how out of breath he was from the adrenalin rush.

"Mr Potter."

James looked up to see the headmaster standing behind him, his piercing blue eyes sweeping the hall taking everything minute detail in as though analysing exactly what must have happened.

"Mr Potter, when Miss Evans and Mr Snape are quite recovered from whatever ordeal has happened here, would you be so kind enough as to lead them to my office? Though you must know, I am not so keen on bubblegum, I am more of a fizzing whizbee person myself."

James hung his head as the headmaster finished his request and disappeared up the marble staircase, now they were definitely in trouble.


End file.
